


A Stick of Gum

by loudspeakr



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: (to a degree), Best Friendship, Epistolary, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudspeakr/pseuds/loudspeakr
Summary: Link takes the day off. He just has one simple request.





	A Stick of Gum

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Good Mythical Potluck challenge. Partly inspired by Dodie's [_Intertwined_](https://open.spotify.com/track/3uYxmgnOA9lJYAsHyEbbWA).
> 
> Thanks to the ever-lovely [Sims](http://afangirlsplaylist.tumblr.com) for helping me out with this!

**7:28am**   _Hey, feeling a bit low 2day. Might  
              stay home._

No problem. Feel better.  **7:29am**

 **7:32am**   _Don’t wanna miss out on planning_  
_session actually. Come over. Can_  
_work from mine._

Won’t I get sick as well?  **7:34am**

 **7:37am**   _Don’t be a baby. C u soon._

 

 

Rhett knocks three times and waits.

A quick message to Stevie earlier got them the okay to be out of the office, their lighter-than-usual schedule thankfully allowing for it. He doesn’t like being away, not even when he really needs it, so when Link suggested they work here, that was good enough for him. A compromise. At least they could still get something done today.

Rapping on the door twice more, there’s still no answer. Rhett returns to the car for his own key, and two minutes later, he’s in.

He expected to find his best friend in the living room, TV blaring some documentary from two years ago. But the room is silent, still, nothing but Jade curled up on Link’s armchair. She lifts her head to acknowledge him, tail wagging, before going back to her nap.

“Link? You here, brother?”

No doubt he’ll find him upstairs, likely fallen back asleep after their messages earlier. Deciding to put off waking him, Rhett moves on and surveys the kitchen. The remnants of a whirlwind morning still lay strewn about the place, used bowls and cereal boxes left out. It must’ve been especially hellish today, hurrying the three kids out the door.

Rhett takes a seat at the dining table and pulls out his phone. By the time he’s done scrolling, he’s wasted a solid thirteen minutes. That’s probably long enough. Careful to step over what is presumably Lando’s clutter on the landing upstairs, he makes it to the last bedroom door.

“Knock, knock,” he says through it, still wary to wake Link just in case.

“Yeah, come in.”

Turning the knob, he swings it wide to find Link sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s dressed – kind of – in a bathrobe and boxer-briefs, dark hair askew from sleep.

“Well,” Rhett says from the doorway, clocking Link’s dishevelled appearance. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Link mutters and gets up to move past him. “Didn’t need that, but thanks.”

So Rhett’s definitely seen Link sick before. He knows the tell-tale signs after decades of friendship, and he’s not seeing it here. There’s no sluggishness to Link’s movements, no sheen of sweat on his brow. And that’s definitely a note of colour in his cheeks.

“Did you bring your guitar? I took down some ideas yesterday.”

“Stuff’s downstairs. How do you feel? You sound fine.”

“I’m, um,” Link ducks his head, clearly avoiding Rhett’s eyeline. “I’m actually having a mental health day. My therapist thought it’d be a good idea with, y’know, the craziness at work.”

“Oh.” Rhett knew he was seeing a professional – that was hardly news in itself – but this wasn’t what he expected to come out of it. “I thought you liked being alone on sick days. Not that this is a sick day.”

“Ha, so…” Pulling some pants on, Link takes a notepad out of his bedside table. He riffles through it, evidently to make sure it’s all there. “Awkward thing, that. I kind of wanted the company.”

“Christy couldn’t stick around today?”

“Actually,” Link says into his notes. “I wanted your company.”

That’s… also not what Rhett’s expecting.

“Uh, I don't know what to say to that. Thank you?”

“Dude, you don't have to say anything.”

“No, but,” he babbles, leaning hard into the doorjamb. “What do I do? Do I comfort you? Offer you a stick of gum?”

“Rhett. Stop.”

“But what do I –”

“Rhett!” Link shoots him a look, grimacing. “You’re not making this any easier. You don’t have to do anything special. Just be here.”

“Sorry, man.” Rhett exhales. He knows he’s being difficult. He doesn’t want to be, but, “This feels a bit weird. I don’t know how to… _be_ that for you.”

That’s not entirely true, if he’s being honest. It’s just that they were kids the last time he had to be Link’s security blanket. They’re grown-ups now, well into adulthood. He didn’t think he’d have to play the role again.

“Link?”

It’s easy to know when Link’s upset. His face shuts down, mouth a tight line, avoids any kind of eye contact. The resulting punch to the gut is just confirmation. Nobody else knows how to serve up guilt quite like Link Neal.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Go if you want. I get it.” And he settles back down on the bed, refusing to meet Rhett’s eyes. “We can pick this up again tomorrow when I’m in.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t be.”

Rhett waits a beat before asking, “So I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Bright and early.”

It doesn’t take him nearly as long going back to the kitchen. He’s about to pick up his guitar when he spots Jade, nibbling on a half-eaten piece of toast under the table.

“Tsk, tsk. Jade, bad.”

He gives her a chin-scratch and takes the food from her. Next, he gathers the dirty plates and goes to rinse everything in the sink, and once he’s done stacking those into the dishwasher, the cereal boxes get put away, along with an empty milk carton he spots in the fridge. He drops it into the bin before scrawling  _milk_  at the bottom of Christy’s shopping list.

By the time Rhett’s done wiping down the countertops, his watch tells him it’s been another thirty-two minutes since he last checked.

It’s his conscience that’s keeping him here, he knows. And rightly so. Link deserves better from him. They’re best friends after all. What’s the point of calling himself that if he can’t even stick around when all Link needs is something as simple as this?

 

Hey, still want that stick of gum?  **10:16am**

 **10:17am**   _Never wanted any gum. Be_  
_down in a sec. Make me some_  
_coffee, you dork._

**Author's Note:**

> Be nice to people, today and always. <3


End file.
